


factual

by faulting



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Canon, Bottom Louis, Closeted Character, Crossdressing, Eating Disorders, Famous Harry, Feminization, Lots of Sex, Lowercase, M/M, Original Character(s), louis is lana del rey, obviously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faulting/pseuds/faulting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> louis is a pub-only singer. harry is a big british actor. they're pretty cute together, even when it's only when they're alone. <i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	factual

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know what I'm doing but I had a dream that Harry was in a horror flick and I just saw Lana Del Queen's _Ride _video for the millionth time, so.__
> 
> __This mentions eating disorders, okay, and while it may seem pretty, it's the absolute obvious. I've dealt with it, but I still think thigh gaps are pretty (MY OPINION, HUSH) and it just mixed with the story. It's glorified a bit, just know that it's actually pretty fucking terrible._ _
> 
> __Triggers: Eating Disorders, Bottom!Louis, Crossdressing, Feminization, Slutty!Louis (just a bit), 'lil bit of Daddy!Kink, beards_ _
> 
> __[Twitter, but I barely use it](http://www.twitter.com/rimmingIwt) _ _
> 
> __Enjoy?_ _

_**PROLOGUE** _

✧*｡

"harry, baby, c'mere for a sec."

he's wet, naked and soapy and now's probably not the best time to call his hubby into the bathroom, especially since he doesn't feel like getting fucked at the moment but it's too late to go back and there's already footsteps coming towards the closed door. the knob twists and he squirms around in the tub just as harry steps in.

he can't help the eye roll that occurs when he notices how the lad's eyes immediately dim because  _men_ _._ harry coolly clears his throat, walks over and louis reaches his wet arms up to wrap around his neck, leaning a bit out of the water to press a kiss to his lips that tasted like the coconut lip balm his sister had gotten him last year for christmas. he barely used it.

"get me my thigh-highs, lovely?" louis asks politely when they pull back. "and that black dress i bought the other day, too."

harry smiles and nods before turning around and making his way out of the compact area. the room smelled exactly like the strawberry bath bomb that he had used a couple of moments beforehand and the hot water was beginning to turn warm. he splashes a bit on the floor and seconds later, like magic, harry was walking back in with the white thigh-highs and the dress that he had requested.

"nervous?" harry asks, handing louis the fox towel with the little tail and hood that they both shared.

louis steps out, trying to ignore the way he feels eyes burning into his side. there's water streaking from his hair, and a lot of it is dripping onto the wooden floor. he wraps the towel around his lithe body.

"'course not," he says. "i'm twenty-two, harry, i've no time to be nervous about silly things."

"you say it like you're fifty," harry grumbles.

louis smiles. "only twenty-eight more years."

he's being stared at while he does  _everything_ _._ from drying himself and running the blowdryer through his wet, tatty hair. he's not trying to tease, honest, but harry's like this eighteen-year-old horndog that can't get enough and to say that he didn't mind most of the time would probably be correct. louis plops down onto the closed toilet seat in just a pair of knickers that he had stolen from his sister years ago and never given back, grabbing the thigh-highs from their place on the sink.

he rolls one of them up onto his legs, "are you?" louis questions.

"probably. yeah," harry retorts, then smirks, "but it's not much work so I'll survive."

he's shifting by the time louis is stepping into his dress. it's kinda funny, and the younger lad wiggles his bum a bit as he pulls it up past it. harry coughs and he turns around in front of him, fingers pressing at the fabric's zipper.

"zip me," he says.

harry does so with yet another cough and louis disappears into their shared bedroom to pull out the scuffed black chucks that he had been wearing for the past three years of his life. he follows him into the room just as the tub finished slowly draining. he's already dressed; in one of those horrid printed button-ups and black jeans.

one of the shoes are on his feet and he's dumping a couple of fivers onto the bed that was filling the other one before putting it on. louis looks up, and  _god_ _,_ men are really actual dogs. he reaches his arms out, making grabby-hands with his fingers and smiling coolly when harry comes over.

"handsie only," louis giggles quietly, "and try to aim for me mouth when you cum."

and about ten minutes later, when louis was searching around for a brush to try and tame his hair that harry had absolutely ruined when he grabbed at it, his lover's cum still dripping a little bit down his cheek, he screamed at the lad for making him late.

harry thought it was cute.

✧*｡

he liked being complimented on this thighs and his lyrics. they were both something he worked so very hard on and equally pained him to get them. so when someone screams out "i bet he has a purty song about his thigh gap" he kinda laughs into the mic.

the room is stuffy and his hair is sticking up in weird places because of it. most of the patrons in the pub were drunk or just not interested but there was a couple of people that actually stared at louis and his gutair with the slightest bit of attention. but, then again, that could have been because he was a bloke in lacy thigh-highs and a dress.

"so, uh," he says into the mic that the pub had provided for him, scratching at the back of his neck, "that was me song called kennedy."

and he wasn't like he  _tried_ to be like lana del rey but he felt like he ended up like her most of the time. the song wasn't too long, and although he'd never tell a living soul, it was about a doll that he had stolen from a garage sale back in '98 that had gotten burned when his sister threw it in their fireplace after he had snipped off a piece of her hair in her sleep. louis liked it though, and no one knew.

"flip up your dress!" someone called, followed by a long string of drunken laughter.

"can't do that. daddy'll be cross," he quips and several ooh's dance through the room. he leans forward, "entirely kidding."

one of the long sleeves of the dress fall down his hand as he reaches up to brush a piece of his hair away from his face. pub crowds were always unbelievably kind, even through they were always drunk. the only problem he's ever had was doing a gig at some fancy-pantsy restaurant and having someone call him a anorexic transgender. rich people were always assholes, he figures. most of them.

"so, who's gonna go see undefined? that horror film?" louis asks kindly, flipping the guitar so that it was resting on his bum before hopping up onto the stool behind him.

a couple people murmured out yeah's. others just raised their halfway gone glass mugs.

"aw, c'mon now! it has to be more than that!" he chuckles, "i thought a little bit more of the lasses would wanna see that main man sweat a bit."

"do you?" a girl with bright red hair and a septum piercing asked from behind the bar counter. louis shrugs.

"he's okay. i've seen hotter. can't beat dicaprio."

that earns him several cheers from the women in the crowd because who  _doesn't_ love leonardo dicaprio? a smile was tugging at the corner of his lips as he leaned forward and placed both hands on the mic, crossing one of his thin legs over the other and puffing a bit of air out from in between his lips to get a piece of his hair out from his face.

"fuck it. i'll admit i kinda fancy the kid. quite the name, too; harry styles," louis giggles.

"now that sounds like a superstar's name!" someone shouts.

"innit!" he agrees excitedly. "i heard they were doing a showing of the film tonight. i'll be the first in line to see it. i'm styles' number one fan!"

people are agreeing with him now, all of their tones' happy and they seem a little bit more hype to be there in a smelly bar with greasy chips and a pretty little lad on stage with a thigh gap and a guitar.

the girl behind the bar is reminding him of his time limit and he nods.

"alright, alright. here's catching stars," louis says, hopping off the stool.

a couple people would have said that he has stolen the beat from a mumford and sons song (he did, just a little bit) but more than that couple have come up to him and complimented him on the lyrics and it seemed to be a winner.

and, okay. maybe halfway through the strumming of his fingers and the slight sway of his hips he tasted the bit of jizz on his tongue that nearly caused him to choke through the rest of his performance. but then he remembered that it was harry styles' jizz, and really, that wasn't half bad.

**Author's Note:**

> It always begins with prologues because I never type enough on my phone for them to be _actual _chapters.__


End file.
